


Mad About You

by alteringegoism



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Kinda Wedding, M/M, Marriage Proposal, OT5 Friendship, Romance, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2425037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alteringegoism/pseuds/alteringegoism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry accidentally asks Niall to marry him. Naturally, Niall accidentally answers with exactly what he's thinking. And of course the day wouldn't be complete without the rest of the boys weighing in on the matter and tipping the scales straight over into the fiery depths of hell. All in all, it goes about as well as can be expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mad About You

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing lots of serious, no good things lately. Thought I'd lighten up for a bit. This is what happens when I try to write something sweet.

Harry imagined hundreds of different ways it could happen. One of his favourites was on the stage in Croke Park surrounded by thousands who loved their prodigal son nearly as much as he did, their friends and family waiting and watching in the wings. He saw the words appear behind them in neon lights; his leg in real life twitched as dream Harry fumbled down onto one knee. The roar would be deafening. A night to blow all previous ones out of the water, never to be topped again.

More fanciful musings shut down the Eiffel tower for a private viewing, La Ville-Lumière laid out at their feet and paling in comparison to the light in blue eyes. Or, possibly, scrawled across the Great Wall so that even alien life forms would know of their love. Or, maybe, spelled out in fireworks over Sydney Harbour, the other being partial to brilliant explosions.

Sometimes, on particularly sentimental days, he pictured it in the back garden of a small house in Mullingar, white lilies and pink and yellow chrysanthemums in full bloom, their delicate sweetness floating on the summer breeze. A proud, nervous Bobby would be pacing across the worn linoleum in the kitchen, back and forth, to and fro past the kettle set to boil on the stove. Harder drink waited on standby to celebrate. Harry would probably be out of commission for a fortnight after those two got through with him.

In none of his daydreams did Harry ever simply blurt it out in the middle of receiving toe curling, brain scrambling head. And never, ever had he pictured Niall pulling off in a clumsy scrape of teeth, hand at the base of his cock squeezing uncomfortably, and answering after the world's longest pause, "What the fuck? No way-" 

Harry ripped his body away from Niall-for the record, it bloody stung to move so suddenly when someone had a hold of your pubes-and half crawled, half sprinted to his underwear drawer. He pulled a pair of pants on over his flaccid, cowed penis and followed that with skinny jeans and a black t-shirt donned at blistering speed. All the while, Niall remained sitting naked on the sex mussed bed, squidgy bum perched upon his heels, mouth opening and closing like a particularly dim witted carp.

Just before Harry ran barefoot out of the door, he whipped a dark blue, velvet box at Niall, his aim somewhere in the vicinity of the other's chest. The box smacked Niall full force on his cheek. 

"Ugh! Shit! Fuck! Wait, Harry!"

But Harry was no longer around to hear him call out.

Harry wandered the streets of London in a daze, his chest heaving, sockless toes squishing sweaty and uncomfortable in his suede Chelsea boots. A blister on his heel and a deluge of tears threatened with every step. Harry sniffled manfully and dropped down onto a bench in a nearby park. His boots went flying into the grass where he kicked them off. Toes squirmed free against the cool, damp soil and cushioning blades of green. And it was that vibrant shade, the green of rolling meadows and leprechauns, the green of stupid frat-bro-dude-laddy-lad snapbacks and ugly duck sweatshirts, and finally the green of emeralds set in a platinum engagement band that set Harry off.

Eyes streaming and face turning alarmingly prune-like, Harry fumbled with his pockets and nearly dislocated his wrist wrenching his mobile out of his circulation cutting jeans.

"L-l-ou-is!" Harry stuttered between hyperventilating breaths.

"Gah!" Louis recoiled and almost dropped his phone after answering the FaceTime call.

"H-h-he s-said NO-ooo!"

"Wipe your ruddy nose for god's sake. Nobody bloody wants to see that shit."

Harry dragged his forearm over his face and succeeded only in smearing it into a bigger mess.

Louis turned away with a shudder. "I'm gonna vom. Then you're gonna vom and cry some more and then we'll both be sitting here in a big pile of our own sick and bodily fluids unable to stop from setting each other off in a vicious cycle. Is that what you want, Harry? My death by vomit asphyxiation? Is it?"

Harry wailed and attempted to mop his sogginess up one-handed with the hem of his t-shirt.

"Get your shit together, you mewling toddler. I can't fix whatever's wrong until you do."

It was that no nonsense, twatish compassion that finally calmed Harry into a state where he could speak somewhat coherently. "He said n-no, Louis."

"Who said no to what now?"

Harry cast his mind back in time not more than 30 minutes ago, voice turning hazy with memory. "It was half past one. The air condition had been set too low and I felt a bit chilled. Niall, bless him, thought he'd give it a go at getting me warm. His eyes were mesmerizing, like a snake. A snake charmer. Or wait, wouldn't that be me? The snake charms the charmer? Anyhow, I looked in his eyes and I thought, I love this man. So I said it. Cause it felt right. Marry me. And, he paused and he said, 'No way' and then I left." 

Harry's breath hitched on the last word. He had to bite his wobbling lip after that to keep his broken keening inside. Nothing however, could hold the tears back.

"...Oh."

Except for Louis' clear lack of enthusiasm apparently. Outrage, it turned out, was a pretty good remedy for devastated sobbing. The tears dried right up as green eyes shot fire down into the small rectangular screen.

Harry's drawl increased in both volume and pace. "That's all you have to say? Niall just ripped my bloody heart straight out of my chest and Riverdanced on it into a million pieces. And maybe he never loved me like he said he did, and this was all some dastardly plan to lull me into complacency and steal my...to take my...fuck! I don't know!" He yanked hard at his curls and screamed pitifully.

"Really, Harry? What's your millionaire, fellow boybander boyfriend going to steal from you that he doesn't already have? Your poncy see through shirts? Your grotty headscarves?" Safe at the other end of their connection, Louis snorted and rolled his eyes. "And they call me the dramatic one."

"Well maybe he just doesn't love me then."

Louis' sharp face instantly softened. "Harry, c'mon. You know that's complete bollocks. Niall loves you, bro. More than anything. Didn't he cut down to dropping f-bombs into only every third sentence just for you?"

The fist strangling Harry's esophagus eased its grip slightly. "Yeah," he croaked.

"And that bogtrotter certainly doesn't bother holding in his trumps for the sake of  _our_  delicate sensibilities."

"I guess he does do that for me. Sometimes. When it doesn't feel like it's going to be a hilarious one." Harry's chest constricted with a different sort of sweet pain. "But-"

"No buts. Niall loves you full stop. Can't believe you'd ever doubt that."

"Then why'd he say no?" The pain returned to the agonizing sort as Harry replayed in an endless loop that immediate denial falling from those shiny, slackened lips.

"You probably just surprised him, is all."

Now that Harry thought about it, it really hadn't been the most opportune moment. And it had definitely caught his normally verbose Irish boyfriend off guard. Certainly, it was nothing like all the grandiose plans Harry had been dreaming of and that they both so richly deserved. Perhaps even Niall had believed him to be joking before he literally smacked him in the face with the truth of it.

"You're right." The affronted fire in him transformed into smouldering determination. "Niall loves me. I love him. 'M gonna go home now and ask again. Do it proper this time."

Louis paused, eyes darting to the side before his features schooled into an expression of soothing persuasiveness that still managed to look a little bit impish in the tilt of his lips and the creases in his brow. Then again, Louis rarely looked anything but hell bent. "Well now, take it easy. Let the lad grow accustomed to the idea before you go springing it on him again. Don't want him saying no a second time, do you?"

Harry flailed to his feet and startled the birds into flight from a nearby tree. He squawked into his iPhone, his wide mouth flapping furiously. "What the hell, Louis? You're a shit mate with shitty advice, you know that?"

"I'm just saying, you're in a delicate mindset right now. You need to take some time away from Niall to calm down and clean up so you don't look a mess when making the ultimate declaration to the love of your life. Maybe let him come to you this time. I mean, turnabout's fair play, innit?"

Harry swayed in the wind and rubbed at his red rimmed eyes. "I guess?"

Louis smiled at him, the deep fondness he harboured clear even through the lens and the screen and the distance. "Just get your arse over here and chill before someone spots you and sparks a riot, you great girl's blouse. 

"Not an insult," Harry grumbled out the reprimand, but the lack of heat and the flutter of needy lashes over soft eyes told Louis he'd won.

"Yes, yes. You are woman; hear her roar." With a wink and a kiss, Louis disconnected.

Soon after, Harry stumbled into Louis' flat without bothering to knock. Crossing over the threshold, he instantly felt some of the knots of tension in his shoulders loosen in the presence of one of his first and therefore oldest friends in this mad, wonderful life of his.

"Where are those god awful boots of yours that you live in?" Louis asked from his spot on the sofa eyeing Harry's bare, dusty feet as if they were dangerous, diseased things. Knowing the state of the streets of London, they probably were.

"Huh?" Harry peered the great distance down to this toes. He wriggled the small, brownish digits thoughtfully. "Must have left them in the park."

"Well at least one good thing's come of this," Louis muttered and pushed Harry down the hall to the bath where he ordered him to clean his feet.

"Like you've room to judge on foot hygiene. Or fashion," Harry complained but dutifully turned on the tap and stripped out of his jeans down to his gray skivvies.

Harry was in the midst of squishing warm, soapy water through his toes with Louis perched on the rim of the tub beside him nattering his ear off when Zayn came bursting into the bathroom.

"No! Get the fuck out of here, Malik!" Louis stabbed a finger at the door in case his words lacked clarity.

Zayn wheezed and bent at the waist, having apparently run some of the distance to Louis' flat, and stuck up a choice finger of his own at Louis.

"H-Har-ry," Zayn panted.

"If you didn't smoke so much and treated your only body like the temple it is..." Harry tutted out not looking up from the sole of his foot as he balanced one legged in the tub.

"Fuck you too, Harry!" Zayn spluttered and coughed. "I mean, Harry, bro-"

"Hullo, Zayn. Y'alright?" Harry said while scrubbing and messaging meditatively along his arch.

Zayn took the first deep, calming breath of many to follow. "Hi, Harry. Can I ask what you're doing faffing about here while Niall's going out of his mind?"

Harry's head came up, one leg still bent and crossed at the knee, like a startled flamingo. "You've talked to Niall? Is something the matter with him?"

"You're toeing the line there, Malik. Back off."

"Is something the-? Are you taking the piss right now, Harry? You proposed whilst balls deep in the middle of shagging and then just took off!"

Louis jeered and banged his fist on the tub with glee. "Jesus, really? You've been holding out on me, Harry."

"'Cause he told me no!"

Zayn ventured further into the bathroom. He held his hands spread wide and questioning. "That's official then? First proposal's null and void? Are you sure? You didn't mishear?"

"Zayn!" Louis jumped up and placed himself bodily between the two.

"Just verifying the facts, Louis." Zayn stared down his nose at him and then shoved his way past. He grabbed a hold of Harry's shoulder, the grip firm. "Get your trousers on. Niall's waiting for you to finish-"

"Tread carefully, mate."

"To, uh, finish talking, yeah," Zayn finished. "C'mon, we have to hurry. He was in a proper strop when I left. Only you can sort him out when he's like that. I got a car waiting out front." 

"My poor baby needs me." Harry nodded so fast and furiously that his hair bobbled and whipped across Zayn's mouth. The other recoiled and spat out the ticklish taste. Harry threw out a hand that incidentally met Zayn's chest with a dull thump and a loud hiss. "Louis, pass me my jeans?"

Reaching down, Louis balled up the mound of denim and then tossed it lightning quick into the air and to the left. Three sets of eyes watched the jeans splash into the dirty bath water.

Zayn took two more deep breaths, nostrils flaring, and pinned Louis with a look that turned his own brown eyes to dark, stormy slits.

"Oops."

Visibly working his jaw, Zayn's mouth stretched wide in a closed-lip, determined smile. "No matter. Niall's seen you in less and in far worse, I'd wager. I reckon we all have." 

Water sloshed and dripped all over the tile floor as Zayn kept a tight grip on Harry and led him to the front door. Louis' shrill protests followed closely behind nipping at their heels.

They paused in front of the door. Zayn pivoted in a slow circle. "Where are your shoes?"

Harry shrugged. Louis smirked.

Zayn threw his hands up. "What-fucking-ever. Let's go." He wrenched the door open.

"'M gonna have to wash them again," Harry complained.

"Shut up and get outside, you twat."

"Now, Zayn, that sounds an awful lot like bullying."

"We don't stand for bullying," Harry said with a stern downturn of lips. He planted his damp feet.

"Swear to god, Louis..." Zayn took one look at Harry's stubborn, self-righteous pout and began muttering curses under his breath. He toed the trainers off his feet and rolled off his white athletic socks while calling down famine and pestilence on their respective heads. The tubes of stretched, body warmed cotton smacked Harry in the face. Zayn stomped his naked feet back into his trainers.

Harry wrinkled his nose and caught the falling socks in his hands. He then proceeded to pull them on most thoroughly, stretching the tops up to mid calf. He stood up straight and dusted his hands. "Well, what are we standing round here for? Niall awaits."

Zayn just carried on smiling tightly and forcibly kept his mouth shut; he didn’t quite trust his tongue in that moment. All three made it down to street level in silence without coming to blows or suffering the loss of limbs, though it was a near thing. Zayn mouthed death threats at Louis behind Harry's back as they piled into the backseat. Louis responded with lewd hand gestures and that smarmy grin of his that guaranteed an instant rise in blood pressure. 

The car rolled up to Niall's building and Zayn nearly ripped the handle off the door getting it open. Harry remained sat on his arse on the middle seat.

"What now?" Zayn bit out.

Harry chewed on his lip and peered up through the tinted glass, twitching eyes searching out the correct window in the brick facade of the building. "If I ask again, do you think his answer will be different?"

"I-"

Louis cleared his throat and came to stand beside Zayn.

"I think you know Niall well enough by now to-owww!" Zayn's hand shot up to clutch at the throbbing flesh of his underarm where Louis had just dug in the pincers that he passed off as human nails. With barely a moment's pause in between, Zayn's same soothing hand struck out and slapped Louis right in the middle of his smug face.

Forgotten, Harry nodded to himself and scooted out of the car. Steady steps carried him past his flailing friends, the air around them turning thickly blue with curses. His sock feet padded silent on the concrete and then up the stairs and past the doors into the building. The lift shut in the nick of time on Louis and Zayn's straining noses.

The sliding doors pinged open again. Alone, Harry stopped outside the familiar front door and tried to still the fine trembling that originated in his brain and ran down his spine to settle most noticeably in his large hands and feet. Failing at that, Harry shuffled into the flat with his vision whitening around the edges and the sound of his own blood roaring in his ears. 

A low lying, red foil heart unexpectedly brushed through the springy tips of his curls. Harry walked further inside and ducked the next hanging decoration, a cheery orange pumpkin this time. Silver and gold holiday stars and tinsel strung along the length of the hallway and led into the living room. Harry parted the shimmering curtain of mardi gras beads shielding the entryway and entered.

Bursts of colour and shine jostled for Harry's attention. To his far left, Liam stood upon a ladder tacking a huge, glittery shamrock to the wall in line with a gold cherub and a Happy Anniversary! sign. Delicately spiralling strands of crepe streamers in peach, pink, and cream leftover from his mum's recent surprise birthday party formed a large and utterly lovely canopy spreading out from the chandelier overhead.

To his right, a round table covered by his best Belgian linen tablecloth practically staggered under the weight of of all sorts of French pastries. A brief glance took in rounded mounds of dark chocolate truffles, tiered trays of rainbow macarons and petit fours, and a variety of delectable choux pastry in the form of éclairs and profiteroles and religieuses. Harry's favourite little madeleines dotted the spaces in between.

All of that disappeared into irrelevance when Harry's sight landed on Niall dressed in a form fitting black suit, a crisp white shirt, and a green silk tie in the middle of the living room. An uncertain smile bloomed on Niall's face beneath a starkly bruised cheek. His left hand glinted silver and green in the warm afternoon light. The sight of Harry in his calf stretched socks and underpants caused not a ripple in his steady, easygoing surface.

Zayn and Louis came tussling into the living room, each one jockeying for the front running position. An elbow to the gut knocked Zayn back a step and he didn't hesitate after that to sweep the feet out from under Louis. One solid yank of an ankle and both were grunting and rolling around on the carpeted floor. It took Liam wading in to haul them apart.

"Can you two wankers act like something resembling adults for a moment? This isn't about you."

"Yeah, Zayn. Let Niall speak."

"Go ahead, Harry-" The pinching and slapping started up again with Liam caught in the crossfire this time.

Harry ignored the commotion, a skill he had honed to razor sharpness to cut through all the various blather and bullshit of his bandmates over all their years together, and approached Niall. Long fingers stretched out to soothe the purplish mark he had made on that fair cheek. Before he could touch, Niall dropped down onto one knee. Harry froze in place with his hand in the air.

Niall struggled with his trouser pocket. His face flushed rosy bright with the effort before his left hand emerged triumphant with a small, black, leatherish box. He tossed it into his right, cracked it open and held it out balanced upon his palm. Diamonds and sapphires shone up at Harry like stars. "Had one of my own, you see. Didn't exactly expect you to upstage me like that."

"Like you haven't gone and outdone me with that flashy piece there," Harry said. His limply held hand flopped at the golden Graff London logo imprinted on the inside of the box.

"Oh I dunno 'bout that. I quite fancy this one here meself." Niall glanced down at the Harry Winston band on the ring finger of his left hand with a tender quirk of lips and a bashful lowering of lashes that was quite at odds with his usual brash confidence. "So...yeah?" Looking up, he waved the ringbox at Harry and waggled his eyebrows.

Behind them, the world fell silent and watchful, not a screech or complaint to be heard.

"No, give it here." Bypassing the proffered ring, Harry demanded his own back from Niall with an impatient, imperious gesture. When Niall simply stared at him, he pried the perfectly sized circle of metal from the shock slackened finger. Harry dropped to one knee in front of Niall before too much misunderstanding could shade those blue eyes.

Harry pinched the ring between his thumb and forefinger and held it out upright. "We're doing this proper, Niall James Horan."

Niall inhaled a deep, shuddery breath. Harry on the other hand felt the nerves and bones of his body settle into steel. He'd never been more certain of anything in his life. 

Niall's grin went wobbly and crooked in the corners. "Couldn't happen any other way, Harry Edward Styles." 

Green eyes never once flickered from blue. "Will you-?" 

"Marry me?" 

Their mouths and bodies and hearts moved in perfect unison to give the only answer that had ever existed for such a question. 

"Yes." 

Two rings slid into place. Two puzzle pieces slotted home. Two incomplete souls were made whole. 

"And that boys, is how you get the job done," Liam said with a wide grin splitting his face. Thick biceps squeezed tight around Louis and Zayn's necks as he held them subdued in headlocks.

"Fuck you, Liam!" In this, Zayn and Louis were of one mind. "You cheated! Don't know how, but I know you did!" Just like that, the truce ended as quickly as it had begun.

"Our closest friends, our brothers, wagered on us didn't they? This entire time they knew, those complete and utter bastards," Harry said with a disapproving shake of his head as they gained their feet.

"Ah the dark horse double proposal. Sick job, Payno. Bravo," Niall called out to the writhing mass on the floor.

Harry turned his back on the three and once more shut out their noise. "Thank you for saying yes." He cupped Niall's jaw in his hand and ran his thumb over the livid bruise. "And I'm so sorry about this."

Niall nuzzled into the fingers. "Doesn't matter. Your aim is as atrocious as ever, but I love you anyway." The loud laugh that followed knocked his chin from Harry's hold.

"And I love you even though you're always literally laughing your head off at nothing at all." Harry gently placed his forehead against Niall's.

Niall scoffed in his face. "Yeah well, you can, and do, fall arse over tit over everything and nothing, so I reckon we're about even there."

"That we most definitely are." He stroked and squeezed the ropey muscles in Niall's upper arms. "And I love you even when you can't keep from whinging about your chicken legs and toothpick arms–that I adore by the way–and even though I don't really know what you look like with all of your natural hair colour."

Niall ran a hand through and tugged lightly at Harry's curls. "Well, I'll still love ya even if your hairline recedes into your neck, and you lose the power of the do, and have to live in those stupid hats that you favour forever after. Leastwise, I won't have to put up with your nasty hairballs on the bathroom floor anymore."

"Love you even though you ruin many a good meal with too much ketchup."

"Can't dodge for shit. And you tend to steal all the covers, especially in winter, ya big baby."

"You're always brutally honesty. But it's your genuine spirit that makes everyone instantly want to be your best mate, as annoying as that is since everyone should know by now that position is reserved solely for  _me_."

"Oi, what about me?"

"Pretty sure I'm his best mate too, and yours of course."

"What are we, chopped liver?"

"Shaddup back there!" Niall hollered. His arms slid smooth and comfortable around Harry's waist. "Love how no one else can hug me like you do. Will clarify for our audience that you're pretty spectacular at handing out the orgasms too, "-booing and gagging sounds followed-"but the hugging stuff we'll still be able to do when we're ancient and gray and our bits no longer work." Slim hips wiggled in emphasis.

Harry trailed his fingertips up and down Niall's spine and reveled in the shiver this engendered. "I love you even when you're up past 3am mucking about on your guitar while I'm trying to sleep. You have no care for your knee when you're dancing and acting the fool, yet throw your toys out the pram when any of us try to protect you. And are you aware that you weasel free meals out of everyone-?"

"Jayzus, Harry. I will love you for the eternity it takes you to wrap this up."

"And I will love you even longer than that. I promise."

Niall's resulting embrace squeezed the breath out of Harry. Harry returned the favour with gusto until they were red faced and gasping with a suspicious sheen to their eyes. Lips inched ever closer.

The firm, insistent weight of additional arms closing in around them halted their movements. "Now hold on a minute. We got our own pieces to say first before we just hand you off to each other." Bold blue eyes clashed with blue. "You'll take care of Harry, won't you, mate? You wouldn't want to deal with me in the event that you don't," Louis said with his head hooked over Harry's shoulder.

"I'll beat you bloody with your own arms if you fuck with my little brother, Harry," Zayn promised with Niall pulled into his side.

"I don't know which one of you to threaten, so I won't. I will say that I don't think that I have much to worry about and you have my blessing. You always have done." Liam looked back and forth between them before leaning in. "Alright, lads. Hands in."

They flowed without conscious thought into a tightly huddled circle, five separate and disparate hands dog piled in the centre, Niall and Harry's sandwiched in between the others. There was no telltale prompt, no cue of lights or music, but their clasped hands rose and fell in accord. Once, twice, three times. 

"I now pronounce you-"

"Mr. Niall Styles."

"Mr. Harry Horan, ladies and gentlemen!"

"Fucking horrid," Niall said.

"It's beautiful!" Harry declared and then they all smooshed together in such a tangle of limbs and smacking lips that they could no longer tell where things began and ended.

And beautiful it most certainly was.

**Author's Note:**

> Everybody knows you never go full wedding. Went full wedding, went home empty handed...


End file.
